Category: English

Every girl who comes to the Glitter Nightclub to relax is unaware that there’s a pair of eyes watching them from above. The chosen girls will become “dolls” for the rich that very night. And I’m the driver responsible for transporting these beautiful “dolls”. Today is my first time transporting a beautiful “doll”, and Manager Thompson has assigned Old Bill to show me the ropes. In the rearview mirror, I catch a glimpse of Old Bill’s hand kneading the woman’s full, perky chest. The woman leans against the car window with her eyes closed, her fair face flushed red, looking completely drunk. This woman is so shameless, I think to myself. Old Bill’s hand has slipped inside her underwear, yet she keeps her eyes closed, seemingly enjoying it without making a sound. I’m both envious of Old Bill’s good fortune and utterly disgusted by these women who sell their bodies for money. A month ago, I was hired as security for the Glitter Nightclub. The probation period salary was $500, with a promise of $1000 after becoming a regular employee. Today, I just became a regular employee. Only then did I realize that the doubled salary was for doing this kind of work. They call these women “dolls”. Rich men wait at hotels, and we’re responsible for transporting the “dolls” to them. Although this job isn’t exactly honorable, it’s easy and pays well. I’m just the driver, not the one selling myself, so it’s none of my business. I graduated high school and went straight into the workforce. I’ve worked in factories and construction sites. All the jobs I’ve done before were more tiring than this one. I still cherish this job quite a bit. Old Bill, that old pervert, is getting more and more out of hand. Not satisfied with just touching, he’s now eagerly sucking away, the sound of his slurping making my mind wander. We hit traffic, and I turn my head to look at the scene of debauchery in the back seat. “Old Bill, how much did this woman drink? She’s still not waking up?” Old Bill chuckles, “Don’t worry, she won’t wake up. Brother, check the GPS, how much longer will we be stuck?” I glance at the navigation, there’s about a three-kilometer red line. “Probably about ten minutes of traffic.” “That’s enough, hehe.” Old Bill stands up, unbuckling his belt and pulling out his thing. Damn, his guts are too big. He’s going to do it right here. “Old Bill, isn’t this going too far? The client wants her, and you’re playing with her first. If we get caught, my job…” “Buddy, I know what I’m doing. I won’t really do it, just letting you feast your eyes.” I want to stop him, but Old Bill has already taken off the woman’s top, put on a condom, and started enjoying himself. The woman still has her eyes closed, her red lips slightly parted, occasionally letting out a faint moan. She really is like a living doll that can be manipulated at will. Old Bill, that quick shooter, finishes in less than two minutes. He tidies up the woman’s clothes, takes out a cigarette, lights it, and hands it to me. “Brother, if you ever need anything at Glitter, just ask me.” Taking Old Bill’s cigarette, I don’t say anything. This world is truly bizarre. We soon arrive at the hotel booked by the client. The three of us get into the elevator together. The woman still appears unconscious, relying entirely on Old Bill’s support to walk. Out of the elevator, Old Bill tells me this is a blind spot for surveillance cameras. In the future, always bring the “dolls” here for instructions. He takes out a small bottle and puts it under the woman’s nose, then tells her, “Walk straight ahead to room 1808, knock three times, and go in when the door opens.” The woman seems to be activated, stumbling forward like a drunk person. We watch her enter the room. Old Bill pats my shoulder, “Brother, mission accomplished. Let me treat you to a late-night snack.” I ask confusedly, “Why did she suddenly respond?” “Brother, don’t ask questions you shouldn’t. We just do our job.” Seeing Old Bill’s suddenly serious face, I shut up.

After successfully completing my first “doll” delivery, the manager lets me officially start work. From now on, I can deliver “dolls” independently. The nightclub’s pimping business is very good. I have to deliver at least three “dolls” to hotels every day. The manager repeatedly reminds me that when I let the girls smell the gas from the bottle and tell them the room number, I must avoid the surveillance cameras. Strangely, every girl is in a completely drunk state, supported by me into the car, unconscious the whole way. After I tell them the room number in the hotel corner, they walk into the room like puppets on strings. Even stranger, once when I was patrolling the nightclub, there was a stunning girl in the dance floor, radiating beauty. She was the most beautiful girl in the entire club, and I couldn’t help but keep an eye on her. That night, one of the “dolls” I delivered was that very girl. But just ten minutes before I took her, she was still dancing energetically with her friends in the club. Ten minutes later, when the manager handed her to me to take to the hotel, the girl was completely drunk, needing my support to walk. I felt something was off, but I didn’t investigate further. I figured girls who come to nightclubs late at night aren’t good girls anyway. They’re either there to let loose or to hook up with men. The only difference is that escorts get paid, while these girls willingly sleep with men. And for the sake of my monthly $1000 salary, I didn’t want to get involved. I stuck to the principle of seeing less, saying nothing, and just doing my job, which the manager appreciated. In the third month, besides my salary, the manager gave me a $500 bonus. Today, as usual, the manager handed me a “doll”, and I routinely put her in the car. I despise these women who sell their bodies, so I never bother with them. But today’s “doll”, the more I looked at her in the rearview mirror, the more familiar she seemed. She turned out to be Emily Parker, my high school classmate and the class beauty. In high school, although my grades weren’t great, I was good-looking and could sing well, so quite a few girls sent me love letters. I always liked Emily Parker, the class beauty. Although we didn’t date back then, I knew she had feelings for me. At graduation, when she was drunk, she hugged me and cried, saying she liked me. But after graduation, she went to college in the big city, while I didn’t get into university and entered the workforce early. I later worked as a construction worker in the city and once went to her university to find her. I bought new clothes and excitedly went to see her, coincidentally meeting her and her roommates going to the cafeteria. I invited them all to eat together. At first, everyone was happy, but when they heard I worked at a construction site, their expressions changed. They all made excuses and left, pulling Emily along. Emily looked at me hesitantly, seeming troubled, but in the end, she left with them. That day, I drank a bottle of liquor alone in the restaurant. She looked down on me. I hadn’t seen Emily Parker since then, almost ten years now. Snapping back to the present, Emily is still beautiful, with fair skin and a slender yet curvy figure. Compared to her pure look in high school, she’s added some mature feminine charm, making her even more alluring. I just never imagined she’d end up in this line of work. Her family was well-off when we were in school. Is she so desperate for money now? I kept glancing at her in the rearview mirror, hoping she’d notice me, yet afraid she’d recognize me and make things awkward. Now she’s out selling herself, and I’m the driver taking her to meet a client. Time really is a butcher’s knife, slaughtering people beyond recognition. Feigning calmness, I asked, “Miss, would you like some water?” As the car turned a corner, her head tilted to one side, her long hair covering her face, making it impossible to see her expression. Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to me. These women who sell their bodies for money only have eyes for rich men, they never pay attention to someone like me. It’s just that seeing the girl I once liked fall so low makes me feel awful. I gathered my courage and said, “Emily Parker, it’s me, Jack Wilson. Do you remember me? We were classmates in high school.” “You went to college in the city, and I even came to find you once.” “How have you been all these years? If you’re in any trouble, I can help you. Can’t you stop doing this work?” I said a lot, but she still didn’t respond. I started to feel angry. She still looks down on me, doesn’t she? I’ve heard that women of her caliber are called high-class escorts. They charge at least a few hundred dollars for one night, sometimes even thousands. We were almost at the hotel when the manager suddenly called. “Jack, don’t you dare try anything funny. This ‘doll’ must be delivered properly.” “If anything goes wrong, you’ll face serious consequences.” I hurriedly replied, “Manager, don’t worry. I guarantee I’ll deliver her safely.” I didn’t want to lose my job over a woman like this, but how did the manager know to call and scold me at such a convenient time? Could it be that we’re monitored every time we deliver a “doll”? The thought made me break out in a cold sweat. Despite the mixed emotions of delivering the girl I liked to another man’s bed, I still successfully sent Emily Parker into the room. After watching her walk in, I quickly fled the scene and returned to the nightclub.

A waiter said the manager was waiting for me on the second floor. He led me to the elevator. The second floor was the VIP area of the nightclub, never accessible to ordinary people, and the entrance was very discreet, requiring a guide. The waiter winked at me, “You’re in for a treat tonight.” I didn’t understand what he meant and walked through the long, dark corridor in confusion. The manager was waiting for me in front of a glass wall. From here, you could overlook the entire nightclub, with an excellent view. Besides the manager, there was another man on the second floor, in his forties, pot-bellied, wearing prayer beads on his hand. He looked like a wealthy businessman. The manager raised his hand to stop me from speaking, “Watch carefully, and don’t say anything.” I nodded and stood to the side. The manager smiled obsequiously, “Mr. Blackwell, how do you like today’s dolls? You can pick any doll from the floor, and we’ll send her directly to your room.” Mr. Blackwell stared intently at the floor below, “There’s no risk, right?” “Rest assured, we guarantee zero risk. We’ll handle everything from start to finish cleanly. Just tell me if there are any you like down there?” “There are a few that look quite nice.” The manager handed a remote control to Mr. Blackwell, “This handle controls the direction. When you’ve chosen a doll, just press the confirm button.” Mr. Blackwell chuckled, “You guys really know how to play. This is just like the claw machine my daughter loves.” The manager gave a thumbs up, “Mr. Blackwell, you’re so insightful. This is indeed our version of a claw machine.” Mr. Blackwell laughed heartily. As Mr. Blackwell moved the handle, a beam of light moved across the nightclub floor. No one below paid attention, thinking it was just part of the club’s lighting effects. Those caught in the light became even more excited in their dancing. Little did they know, this was a remote control in the hands of a devil, capable of arbitrarily deciding a girl’s fate for the night. As the light beam settled on a short-haired girl, Mr. Blackwell had chosen today’s “doll”. The girl was completely unaware that her nightmare was about to begin. A beautiful woman approached her, led her to sit at the bar, and chatted with her amiably. The woman handed the girl a drink. After a couple of sips, the girl slumped over the bar counter, as if drunk. These rich people treat ordinary people like playthings, and I had become an accomplice. Realizing this, a chill ran from the soles of my feet to the top of my head. Mr. Blackwell left, satisfied with his new toy. He was eager to go enjoy today’s “doll”.

I don’t want to earn this dirty money anymore. The manager seemed to see through my thoughts. He sneered, “You know how many women you’ve delivered over these three months. We’re all in the same boat now. You want to walk away clean? Don’t dream.” The manager looked down at the floor and gestured to me, “Pick a doll. This is a benefit for new employees. Go enjoy yourself tonight.” I pleaded, “Manager, you know I can keep my mouth shut. Please let me leave. I promise I’ll keep everything here buried in my gut.” “Refusing the carrot and asking for the stick, huh?” The manager picked up the walkie-talkie and said, “Old Bill, call a few guys up here. Teach this kid a lesson.” Soon, three burly men came up. They were all security guards who usually patrolled with me. Damn, they didn’t show any courtesy to a colleague. They beat me up badly. I suspect they’ve always disliked me and were taking this chance for revenge. They were all ruthless guys. It seemed I couldn’t escape this black nightclub. Not wanting to be beaten to death, I quickly begged the manager for mercy. The manager handed me the remote control with a smile, “If you had agreed earlier, you wouldn’t have had to take a beating. It’s good you’ve come around now.” Holding the remote, I figured if I had to sleep with someone, I might as well choose a pretty one. I selected a young, beautiful long-haired girl. The manager told me to go to the hotel and wait. About half an hour later, the girl knocked on my door. The girl stumbled into the room, collapsing directly onto the bed, falling into a deep sleep. This girl wore a black V-neck bodycon dress, her chest white and full, with a deep cleavage inviting imagination. The skirt barely reached her thighs, her long black hair cascading down. She had on exquisite makeup, now looking like a lifeless doll. The manager made a video call, which I quickly answered. “Position your phone at a good angle. I want to watch you do it.” “Manager, this isn’t right. I’m not comfortable doing this with someone watching.” “Cut the crap. If you want to live, do as I say.” I quickly positioned the phone and resigned myself to completing the task. Having been at the nightclub for so long, I’d learned quite a bit. I’d heard of a “compliance drug” that, once consumed, makes a person completely obedient, following any instruction without resistance. And after a night, they remember nothing. I suspected they gave the girls this “compliance drug”. This girl’s body was completely limp. A drunk person would still move, but she had no reaction at all. “Now go kiss her, undress her. Any male dog knows what to do after that, so I don’t need to teach you, right?” The manager instructed through the video call. Resigned to my fate, I crawled on top of the girl, kissing and touching her. The girl’s perfume smelled very nice. Her young, full body and elastic skin… I hadn’t been with a woman for a long time. The fire of desire quickly burned away my rationality.

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Before her death, my daughter was drugged, beaten, and abused for a long time— This was the autopsy report for Madeline. I’ve never been a good mother. After Maddie’s death, I can finally admit that. Night after night, I am haunted by nightmares, where she stands before me, drenched in blood, saying, “Mom, avenge me.” I pushed her into the abyss, all because I wanted her to be perfect. I spent everything I had, changed my appearance, and forged a new identity, all so I could infiltrate this high-end preschool. Don’t cry, Maddie. Mommy is here to get revenge. I removed the thick bandages wrapped around my head. When I looked in the mirror again, I couldn’t help but marvel. Such a beauty. With arched brows and deep-set eyes—a strange combination, but undeniably seductive. The cosmetic surgeon asked, “Can I use your photo as a model?” I smiled and declined. This face is better kept out of the public eye. A few days later, I went to Fairview Hills Academy to apply for a job as a preschool teacher. The assistant principal interviewed me. She was impressed with my qualifications, and after a series of questions, I passed the interview. As I was leaving, she asked, “With your proficiency in four languages and overseas experience, why do you want to be a preschool teacher?” I smiled, “Our nation’s future flowers are worth protecting.”

Three days later, I officially became a proud preschool teacher. The kids were absolutely adorable, surrounding me and calling me “Miss Cindy.” My colleague, a young woman named Jessica Monroe, laughed and said, “You’re amazing! The kids really like you.” I chuckled, teasing, “They like us both. Who can resist two young, pretty teachers?” After work, Jess smiled and waved as she said, “I’m heading out. My husband’s picking me up.” I followed her out until I saw her husband get out of the car to open the door for her. I hurried toward them, handing Jess a notebook from my bag. “Jess, you forgot your notebook.” She quickly took it and thanked me. Her husband, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, smiled at me as his eyes lingered. I looked away quickly, but Jess noticed the awkwardness between us. Jess looked at her husband with amusement, then grabbed my hand to introduce me. “This is my new colleague, the stunning Miss Cindy. You’ll be seeing her often.” Her husband extended his hand and introduced himself, “Zachary Monroe, doctor at Horizon Medical Center. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I glanced at Jess nervously, then shyly reached out to shake Zach’s hand. Jess pulled Zach into the car quickly, her expression darkening. Ah, the curse of being too attractive. Always seen as a threat. Always assumed to be some kind of homewrecker.

As expected, Zach reached out to me. I had no idea how he got my number, but when he called, I acted flustered. I asked, “Does Jess know you’re asking to meet me?” He hesitated for a moment before responding, “How could she possibly know? I didn’t expect such a sultry beauty like you to ask such a… disappointing question.” I let out a sweet, gentle laugh. He asked, “So, do you want to meet up?” Without hesitation, I replied, “Of course. I’d love to. Just the two of us.” He laughed heartily and set the time and place. Tomorrow night, 10 PM at The Clock Tavern. Honestly, I was surprised he didn’t suggest a hotel. But I didn’t mind. Once the clothes come off, everyone looks the same anyway. The fun is in the flirtation before that. I arrived on time, dressed in a loose t-shirt and shorts. He looked shocked as I casually took a seat. Raising his glass, he smirked, “You’re… different.” “I’ll take that as a compliment,” I replied, mimicking his motion and raising my glass. “Thanks for the drink and the flattery.” Zach was a master of flirtation, taking his time—sometimes making me laugh with stories from work, sometimes switching to topics more suited for adults. I raised my glass again, “Who would’ve thought a doctor could tell raunchy jokes better than the average guy?” He downed his drink in one gulp. “What can I say? I’m only human. I need an outlet too. At least I’m not as bad as some who are… less than human.” My curiosity piqued. “Less than human? Do you mean they’re hiring escorts, or… worse?” He shook his head playfully, “Much worse.” I pouted, pretending to be annoyed. “You’re so annoying, leaving me curious like that.” He laughed heartily, “Do you really want to know?” I nodded eagerly, giving him my best innocent look. “Alright, you win. But you have to promise not to tell anyone.” He leaned in close, putting an arm around me, his fingers brushing the hair behind my ear. In a low voice, he whispered, “Some people… have violent tendencies. They like to abuse children.” I swallowed hard, trying to suppress the ache rising in my chest. “Really? That’s… sick.” Zach chuckled, tapping my cheek affectionately. “You scaredy-cat. Don’t worry, I’m not that kind of man.” “I like mature women. But playing innocent… that’s even better.” His fingers trailed down to my lips. I stared at them for a few seconds, then gently licked the tip of his finger with my tongue. I could feel his gaze ignite with desire. If we weren’t sitting in the middle of the tavern, I wondered if he’d have taken me right there.

The next day at work, Jess didn’t look well. I asked her if she was okay, but she just shook her head. Out of concern, I said, “If you’re not feeling well, you should rest in the office. I can handle things here.” Jess thought for a moment before nodding. “Thank you, Izzy. I appreciate it.” I smiled softly, telling her it was no trouble. By lunchtime, Jess still hadn’t shown up in the cafeteria. I brought some food back to the office and found her with swollen, red eyes. “Have you been crying?” I asked, worried. She hesitated for a long time, but maybe she couldn’t hold it in any longer. Her voice trembled as she opened up to me. “My husband didn’t come home until late last night. He wasn’t even on call, but he came home reeking of alcohol… then he just started yelling at me… and hitting me.” I quickly handed her some tissues, and she sobbed for a while before finally calming down. Jess said, “Izzy, thank you for being my shoulder to cry on.” I waved it off. “It’s no problem. We all have things we need to get off our chest sometimes.” She gave me a grateful look as she took the lunch I had brought her. In the blink of an eye, I’d been at Fairview Hills Academy for three months. During that time, I had gotten to know my colleagues well—even the security guards and janitors were on good terms with me. Everyone praised Miss Cindy for her beauty and high emotional intelligence. They said I was bound to go places. Some even complimented me directly to my face. I would just shake my head and say, “I have no ambition. As long as I can be a good teacher, I’m content.” This led them to say, “Miss Cindy is a breath of fresh air, a true gem among women. Graceful and understated.” I would just smile and stop trying to correct them. When people want to praise you, no matter what you say, they’ll think you’re right. And when they want to tear you down, no matter what you do, they’ll still find a way to criticize and hurt you. I’m sure Jess understood this all too well. She was always straightforward and wore her emotions on her sleeve. At just 27, she’d already become one of the top-ranked teachers in the city, earning her quite a bit of attention at the school. But with that attention came arrogance. She looked down on others, especially when compared to my humble attitude, which only made her seem more proud. In these three months, whenever she upset the other teachers, I was the one apologizing on her behalf. When she complained about the cafeteria food, I’d make sure to compliment the staff’s cooking. At first, people probably thought I was just her lackey. But over time, they realized—I was everyone’s little ray of sunshine. Jess’s reputation, however, continued to worsen. During the anonymous mid-year evaluations, she received over forty negative votes. The principal called her in for a meeting. Jess, being the proud person she was, couldn’t stand the humiliation and argued with the principal. It wasn’t a big deal at first, just words being exchanged, but the principal had enough and threatened to fire her. Jess sneered, slammed the desk, and loudly declared for everyone to hear: “No need to fire me. I quit!” Jess quit, and the principal was furious. Whether it was out of pride or genuine intent, she threatened to blacklist Jess. Oddly enough, Jess didn’t seem afraid. I wasn’t sure if she was incredibly brave or incredibly foolish. Fairview Hills Academy is the top-ranking elite preschool in the city. The woman who built it into what it is today didn’t rise to the top without some serious skills. If she really wanted to blacklist Jess, Jess would never be able to work as a preschool teacher again. As Jess left the classroom with her things, I shed a few genuine tears. Maybe I was the only one in this entire school who would truly miss her. She smiled at me, unbothered, and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be back.” Seeing my confusion, she leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “I know the principal’s secret.”

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Here’s the translated and localized version of the passages, incorporating the confirmed character names and other details: On the first day of work, intern Luna Chase added her mom to the group chat. “We’re working,” her mom said. “Luna can’t even use the bathroom, so take good care of her.” “We’re getting takeout,” her mom said. “Luna can’t eat that junk. Aren’t you cooking? Why not make her a meal too?” “We’re working overtime,” her mom said. “Luna has a weak constitution; don’t let her do any heavy lifting.” Finally, after three grueling months of my probation period, I thought I was free. Just when I thought I was liberated, Luna and her family showed up outside the company, holding banners and surrounded by the media. They accused me of exploiting employees and claimed I had a bias against women. They even said I intentionally gave Luna black coffee to cause her to miscarry. In an instant, I was nailed to the cross of workplace bullying. To salvage its reputation, the company fired me. I ended up losing everything, having to pay her $1.3 million in emotional damages. I was chased and harassed online, fleeing to the streets in a panic. Cars whizzed by, and after a deafening crash, all that remained was a pool of blood on the pavement. When I woke up again, I found myself back on the day Luna started her job.

“Come on, everyone! I’d like to introduce our new colleague.” “This is Luna Chase, our new intern. This is Sabrina Quinn, the Marketing Manager; she’ll guide you for now.” The HR rep led the new employee into the office. When I saw Luna timidly standing at the door, my blood ran cold, and I felt like I was about to explode! Luna Chase! The killer who had caused my tragic death on the streets. I struggled to suppress my excitement and slowly composed myself. At that moment, I realized— I had been reborn! Time had reset to the day Luna started her job. I forced a smile to make my expression seem natural. “Luna, I’m Sabrina; you can sit next to me for better communication.” Luna looked nervous, her voice trembling slightly. “Y-yes, thank you, Ms. Quinn.” Watching Luna unpack her things, I found it hard to focus on work. “Ms. Quinn, could you add me to our department’s work group?” Her words jolted me back to reality. In my previous life, on her first day, I had added her to the marketing team group, which didn’t include the CEO or the Marketing Director. Because I said there were no outsiders in the group, she immediately added her mom. That was the moment I fell into a tragic path. The marketing department had two groups: one was the Marketing Work Group, which included the CEO, the director, and some leaders from other departments, although they rarely chimed in. The other was Marketing Hub, which only included marketing colleagues, and I was the highest authority there. I pondered for a moment, then opened my phone. I added Luna to the Marketing Work Group. This time, I wanted everyone to see the antics of this bizarre mother-daughter duo. Just like in my previous life, after adding her, I said, “There are no outsiders in this group; it’s mainly for arranging work.” Luna nodded obediently. I checked my phone every few minutes that morning. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before the group showed, “Luna Chase added Clara Bloom to the chat.” Good! Good! Good! From today onward, I would closely observe how this heartless mother-daughter pair would create chaos.

During lunch break, I went to the break room to heat up my meal. As I was catching up on a show, I overheard two girls chatting nearby. “Did you hear? Our manager just said there’s a weirdo in the marketing department who added her mom to the work group.” “Ha! That’s gone viral! Her mom even said her kid can’t use the toilet, so everyone should take care of her.” “That’s hilarious! I’m going to stroll around the marketing department this afternoon to see who this giant baby is.” I suddenly snapped back to reality; I had turned on do not disturb for the Marketing Work Group and missed the exciting drama. Sure enough, when I opened the chat, the latest message was from Clara Bloom. “Luna can’t even use the toilet, so you all should take care of her.” But the only response was an awkward silence. Clara didn’t give up and @mentioned everyone. However, she wasn’t an admin, so she had to type “@everyone” herself. In my previous life, her mom had only acted up in our small group. This time, I wouldn’t go easy on her; if she wanted to embarrass herself, let it be in the big group. The office was buzzing with a strange atmosphere in the afternoon. Luna, however, seemed completely oblivious to her mistakes. Her qualities as a mama’s girl were evident. “My mom says women shouldn’t wear short skirts; that’s just asking for trouble.” “My mom says women who get their nails done are vain; only plain girls get noticed.” “My mom says just get by at work; women should focus on getting married—marriage is a woman’s true career.” “My mom says women who wear makeup lack confidence, unlike me; I’m naturally beautiful.” “My mom says…” So that entire afternoon, the office was overshadowed by “my mom says.” What she didn’t realize was that while we appeared calm, the Marketing Hub was already in a frenzy. “Seriously, does this person have a brain? Did HR hire her while asleep?” “Ugh, we’re so unlucky that she’s in our department during her internship.” “Well, it’s me who’s really unlucky! During lunch, she pulled me aside to teach her how to use the toilet! Even with a smart toilet, there are instructions on it! Did she really miss nine years of education?” “Just endure it; she looks like she’s struggling to get hired anyway.” I watched the lively chatter in the group and joined in the roasting. In my previous life, I thought Luna was just starting out in her career. Out of kindness, I tried to look after her. But unexpectedly, she turned around and accused me of workplace bullying. That deadly black coffee wasn’t even given to her by me. She had sneakily taken it when she heard I bought expensive black coffee while I was on leave. But no one expected that cup of coffee to cause her miscarriage, which indirectly cost me my life. I had seen Luna’s greedy nature in my previous life. She was a genuine journalism graduate. She appeared low-key, sincere, and humble in daily life. But at 3 PM, during afternoon tea time, Luna turned into a ravenous beast and rushed to the break room. In full view of everyone, she returned to her desk with a bag of snacks and yogurt. While others took a little at a time, she made a spectacle by taking a whole bag. Even the admin raised an eyebrow when passing by. As a result, that afternoon, the company group sent out a notice banning employees from taking large amounts of snacks at once. It was clear to everyone that this was aimed at Luna. But she seemed completely unfazed.

I brought my own lunch to work every day. Some colleagues ordered takeout, while others went out to eat. Just a few days into her job, Luna started complaining. “Sabrina, the takeout near our office is so expensive!” I didn’t even look up. “Well, you can go out for lunch to save on delivery fees.” “We’re in the city center, and a bowl of noodles costs over twenty bucks! Ugh.” Seeing I wasn’t engaging, Luna dropped the subject. She typed away at her computer. Not long after, Clara Bloom chimed in the Marketing Work Group again. “Luna can’t eat that junk! @Sabrina, don’t you cook? Could you make her a meal too?” Before I could respond, several notifications popped up in the small group. I opened the chat to see my colleagues brainstorming how to reply. “Sabrina, just ignore her; is she out of her mind, thinking her daughter is a princess?” “But she @mentioned you, and not responding isn’t great. Maybe just say you’re busy.” “I can’t believe Mr. Stone and the others haven’t noticed there’s such a weirdo in the group!” I looked up from my computer to see my colleagues watching me sympathetically. Then I @mentioned Clara in the work group. “Mrs. Bloom, I do cook daily, and my monthly food costs about $3,000. You can transfer the money to my account, and I’ll cook an extra portion for Luna.” After a long pause, Clara finally managed to respond. “Are you eating gold? How could it cost so much?” “Mrs. Bloom, I’m particular about my meals, so I buy high-quality ingredients. If you’re looking to save money, Luna can always eat in the company cafeteria.” “The cafeteria? Forget it! Your company is heartless; who knows if the food there is safe?” Her comment shocked everyone. Finally, the administrative director could no longer sit idle in the work group. “@Clara, I’m the administrative director here at Summit Enterprises, and I oversee the cafeteria. If you don’t have concrete evidence that the cafeteria food is problematic, I can sue you for defamation!” “Also, could @HR Director Ms. Grant look into why there’s a family member in the work group? This violates company regulations.” In the next moment, Luna’s mom was kicked out by HR. It was clear that Luna was finally realizing there were some big shots in the group. Her face flushed as she leaned close to me, questioning. “Sabrina, didn’t you say there were no outsiders in the group?” I purposely raised my voice, “Exactly, no outsiders; just our company colleagues.” Luna was at a loss for words and quietly returned to her desk. I thought I wouldn’t have to deal with her mom anymore. But then, unexpectedly, her mom tried to add me on social media. I ignored it, but she sent me ten requests throughout the day. Eventually, I got annoyed. I placed my phone in front of Luna. “What does your mom want? Why is she trying to add me?” Luna maintained her frail expression. “Mom’s just worried about me. After all, I just graduated, and she’s afraid I’ll get bullied.” I slammed the table. “If she’s worried about you getting bullied, why let you come to work? Staying home would be much safer!” Luna didn’t expect my outburst; her eyes turned red, and tears streamed down her cheeks. At that moment, a soft voice came from the corner of the office. “Isn’t her mom just showing concern? Sabrina, why are you so upset? Everyone understands what it’s like to be new; it’s just adding someone on social media, it’s not a big deal!” I turned to see it was my arch-rival, Isabella Hart from the Business Department. In my previous life, when I was being cyberbullied, she had added fuel to the fire online, claiming to be my colleague while spreading my supposed misdeeds. It was her interference that led to my unjust dismissal. She even revealed my home address to online trolls.

Thinking of this, a mischievous idea sparked in my mind. “Isabella, you’re such a kind person, so thoughtful.” I turned to Luna, grinning. “Did you see that? Isabella is so nice; she even wants to add your mom on social media!” Luna’s expression brightened as she tentatively asked Isabella. “Ms. Hart, you’re so nice! I’ll tell my mom to add you right away!” Isabella’s smile faded, and she awkwardly replied. “Uh, sure, just give her my social media info. It’s normal to look out for each other since we’re colleagues.” After a moment, I noticed Isabella was busy responding to messages. This time, the deadly black coffee fortune was on her side. Since Isabella had Luna’s mom’s contact, they started getting close. It felt eerily similar to how I had previously suffered. To show her concern for the intern, Isabella began bringing lunch for Luna every day. Even when passing by me, she couldn’t resist throwing a jab. “I’m not like some people, cold-hearted and indifferent to the struggles of interns.” A few remarks were fine, but she never seemed to tire of it. So, I dropped a few hints to Luna. “Isabella lives on Westfield Avenue too; it’s on her way home. She drives alone to work every day, so it must be pretty lonely on the road.” With my comment as a pretext, Luna’s mom told Isabella that evening to drive Luna to work every day. She justified it as needing someone to talk to for safety. Isabella wasn’t pleased, but morally, she couldn’t back down. After all, she had already made a big show of it. Luna had been working for a week, and I started assigning her some simple tasks. Like booking a hotel and coordinating with vendors, among other things. In my previous life, Luna had barely done any work during her internship. It wasn’t because I was particularly kind. It was because she had graduated without even knowing how to make a PowerPoint or properly format a Word document. But this time, I wasn’t going to spoil her. So, when the marketing and business departments had a trip planned, I handed her the task of booking the hotel. I figured that booking a hotel was something even a middle schooler could manage. Who would’ve thought that when our two departments arrived at the hotel Luna booked, we were met with embarrassment? “On a $400 travel budget, you booked a $200 room?” Isabella lost her usual softness. Luna stammered in silence. “Even if you booked a $200 room, at least pick a chain! You booked a freakin’ themed hotel for this trip?” We stood at the entrance of the room, helplessly staring at Luna. This was just the first room. A pink heart-shaped bed. Next to it hung nurse outfits, police uniforms, maid costumes, and even black latex. In the most prominent spot was a large transparent acrylic box. Inside were various suggestive toys that made everyone blush. We all stared at Luna, waiting for a reasonable explanation. Her sincere response shocked us all. “Isabella, I’ve stayed at this hotel with my boyfriend, and I thought it was pretty nice.”

I looked up to the sky in disbelief. Whatever happens, I’m no longer responsible for Luna’s workplace woes. “Luna, do you even have a brain? How could you book a place like this! Tell me how we’re supposed to stay here!” “Right now! Immediately! Go book another hotel! A chain one!” Isabella was genuinely angry this time. But Luna didn’t seem to care. Faced with Isabella’s grim face, she felt wronged. “Why are you being so mean? My mom said you promised her to take good care of me! It’s just booking a hotel; you all can do it yourselves. I’m going to find my boyfriend!” Luna pouted, shed a couple of tears, and walked away. In the end, we had to find another hotel, and it took us until 11 PM to settle down. For the next two days, Isabella wore a dark expression and didn’t smile at Luna once. I thought to myself, this was just the beginning. Some people are naturally selfish, taking your kindness for granted. When we returned to the office, the next morning, Isabella walked into the office alone. Normally, Luna would be right behind her. It looked like Isabella was really upset this time. At 10 AM, Luna still hadn’t arrived. Finally, just before noon, a middle-aged woman burst into the office. “Isabella Hart! Come out here!”

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I’ve been reborn in Hardcore Mode. My mom, Lisa Riley, is a high school dropout obsessed with romance; she doesn’t even feed me because she’s busy posting online about her “man behind bars.” Then there’s my uncle, Kyle Riley, who acts all spiritual but bought a fake beaded bracelet from the dollar store to pass himself off as a “Social Media Circle guru.” The system gave me eight lives. I was thrilled, cheering like a mad baby, only to get tossed into the toilet the next second. What? No one told me survival would be this hard! 01 My name is Avery Wayne, and I’m a baby about to be born. The system told me I was a terrible person in my last life, so it reincarnated me in “Hardcore Mode.” This would force me to understand the cruelty of human life; if I managed to survive until 18, I’d be reborn with a cushy life as a rich, only child next time around. As a consolation, I was given nine lives. Overjoyed, I laughed out loud, only to choke on secondhand smoke as soon as I peeked out. “Get ready; he’s almost here!” A girl with cigarette dangling from her mouth and bangs covering her eyes grabbed me without hesitation. “Gosh, hurry up with the baby already! We’re all waiting for you to get out here and sing.” I glanced around to find myself in a Karaoke Lounge bathroom. Lisa Riley grabbed a napkin, wiped her thigh carelessly, and was about to head out when another girl stopped her. “You’re just gonna leave him here? What about the kid?” Lisa paused, just as someone yelled from outside, “Hey, who ordered the ‘Rose Funeral’ song?” Lisa’s eyes sparkled, and she immediately waved her hand. “I’m going to sing, so just toss him in the toilet.” “…?” Before I could process it, I was swamped by a foul odor and spun around, disoriented. The system chimed in, “Game Over.” One life gone, just like that. Excuse me? Nobody said surviving would be this hard! 02 I got another chance, and the system filled me in on my family situation. My mom, Lisa Riley, was a self-proclaimed “Rebel Queen.” She was in high school, spent her time chanting and dancing online, and went by the name “Street Queen Lisa Riley.” Wait, who cares about her online handle? I cut off the system and asked the real question: “What about my dad?” The system paused briefly, then spoke in a strangely poetic tone, “On the other side of a wall.” “?” “Huh? Like… did he move abroad?” “Actually, no… he went inside.” Turns out he and his friends had a scuffle over a bowl of chili because they didn’t have enough cash. They started fighting over who’d eaten more and ended up getting hauled away by the cops. Lisa took it hard, quit her online life, and wore his black-and-white photo as a necklace every day. It’s just a year for brawling, not like he died… why the theatrics? With that locked in my brain, I waited for my next reset. As I was about to get tossed down the toilet again, I grabbed onto Lisa’s necklace, clutching the locket hard. “What are you doing?!” she shouted, ready to get angry until she saw my tiny hand holding the photo against her chest. Suddenly, Lisa teared up. “Ray… Ray Wayne, did you want me to keep this baby?” “Would you really… want me to raise someone else’s kid?” “…?” What? Did I just hear her right? Despite the emotional confusion, Lisa actually chose to take me home over singing “Rose Funeral.” Sure, it was chaotic, but at least my grandparents might keep me safe. Or so I thought. But then we arrived in a dark, dingy basement. “Hey, Kyle! Can you watch the kid while I go to class?” she yelled from the door. After a long pause, the door creaked open, and I heard chanting inside. A skinny arm, strung with prayer beads, reached toward me. 03 At first, I thought I’d met a gentle soul, but then I got scared out of my mind. Standing in front of me was a lanky guy in a big, oversized suit, with one eye covered by his hair and thick eyeliner stretching almost to his temple. Most unsettling, he had a ghostly smirk permanently plastered on his face. I let out a wail, shivering from head to toe. My uncle, Kyle Riley, had another name online: “Prince of the Social Media Circle.” Seriously? “Prince” of what now? That name’s just awful. His main “job” was streaming online. Before each broadcast, he’d powder his entire face until he looked like a ghost with painted eyes. Creepy? Yes. But at least it meant safety for me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get any sleep before a call came through. On the other end, a girl named Stacey Sweet was sobbing. “Prince, someone’s picking on me and calling himself the true big shot of the Circle! You have to come!” I had a bad feeling about this, but Kyle packed all his beads, looking like a vendor at a flea market, and bolted out the door with me in his arms. Before long, we pulled up to a spa downtown. I got plopped in the bike basket and watched Kyle march over to a girl in a frilly dress. “Stacey, who made you cry? I’ll make him pay!” Then some rich-looking guys with designer clothes swaggered over. “Yo, so you’re the Circle’s big shot?” Kyle didn’t say a word. He just pressed his palms together and chuckled. “No, I… I’ve renounced it all, for Stacey’s sake.” “You sound like a broken record, man.” They burst into laughter and shoved him. Big mistake. The guy who pushed him yelped in pain, clutching his hand. Kyle’s arm was covered with dozens of bracelets, and his calm gaze looked almost monk-like. 04 I was dying inside. What’s he doing, acting all tough with those skinny arms? One punch, and he’d go down harder than a sack of flour. And sure enough, they all closed in on him, ready to fight. He wobbled on his feet from lack of food and promptly passed out. “Did this guy just fake a faint?” The rich kids were panicked. Meanwhile, Stacey threw herself to the ground, opened a nearby bottle of beer, and poured it over her head, screaming, “I swear on love, without you, I’ll die alone!” She made a finger-gun gesture, mimed shooting herself, and collapsed dramatically on top of him. I stood there, completely speechless, while onlookers burst out laughing. Did they think if they couldn’t beat him up, they’d just awkward him to death? The rich kids laughed it off and walked away, but not before hitting Kyle’s scooter and sending it crashing. I spun out as my vision blurred, and the system popped up again: [Game Over! Cause of Death: 360-degree spin with liftoff.] This survival game is a nightmare. Is making it out of this madness a requirement to be born here? I made a plan and braced myself for the next reset. When Stacey’s call came again, I threw myself off the stool, hitting the ground with a loud thud. Kyle, startled but still sane enough, took me to the local clinic, and by the time he called Stacey back, she’d already gone home. Not long after, Lisa came back. 05 This time, she brought home a woman in her forties. The system informed me this was Lisa’s stepmother, Janet Reed. With one look of disgust, Janet snatched me up to leave. As soon as I saw daylight, I realized Lisa had a fresh handprint on her cheek. After winding through a fancy neighborhood, someone greeted us from below: “Well, if it isn’t Lisa! Came home with your mom for dinner?” Lisa snapped, “She’s not my mom!” Embarrassed, Janet stomped into the house and gave her another slap as soon as they were inside. “If I’m not your mom, don’t come running to me for help with your kid!” Janet’s words only fueled Lisa’s anger, and she clenched her fists, hissing back, “Don’t mistake my patience for kindness. You try pushing me, and I’ll bring my crew to teach you a lesson.” Janet faltered, finally sitting down with a sigh. “Lisa, we’re only trying to help. Look at yourself—you’re young and pretty now, but who’ll want you later? Your dad already found you a man who’s giving a $10,000 dowry, and we’ve got it set aside for you.” “Forget about the kid; nobody needs to know. You can just get married and move on.” At that, Lisa burst into tears. “I’m not marrying! My guy’s getting out of prison soon!” “You keep the kid, fine, but there’ll be no wedding. Force me again, and I’ll die before I go through with it!” Janet rolled her eyes, groaning, before heading off to make dinner. 06 Janet Reed whipped up a whole spread of food in no time, even mixing up a bottle for me. That was the first full meal I’d had since… well, ever. For a second, I thought maybe life in this hellhole was finally looking up. Then, out of nowhere, the system chimed in my head: Game Over! Cause of Death: Poison. “…?” I didn’t even have a chance to react before I saw Lisa, gulping down her food, suddenly collapse. Janet stood over her with a sick grin, chuckling darkly. “You thought you’d get to call the shots here?” Wait—was she pulling a Breaking Bad on us? What the actual—?! I immediately reset, starting back at the moment I’d walked in. This time, right as Janet tried to feed me, I head-butted her hand, and burst into loud, wailing cries. “Why is this brat suddenly screaming?” Janet snapped, annoyed, and tried to pass me back to Lisa. Taking my chance, I flopped down onto the table and knocked everything I could reach onto the floor, plates shattering all around me. Lisa turned to grab a rag from the kitchen, but her eyes fell on an open bottle sitting on the table. “Isn’t this… poison?! Were you trying to kill us?” Janet’s face turned stony as she stood there, her fake kindness crumbling. “Oh, come on. Did you really think I’d raise your kid for you? I may have my standards, but they aren’t that low.” “When your dad comes home, the kid’s done for anyway. I was just making things easier.” I almost wet myself from fear, but thank goodness this time Lisa didn’t try to “fight it out.” She grabbed me and bolted, muttering darkly as we ran, “I don’t deal with monsters.” For once, Lisa made a smart move. That night, she packed us up and moved out, bringing Uncle Kyle along with us. As night fell, the system gave me a new notification: Congratulations! You’ve survived Day One. Reward: Fast-forward one year.

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Dallas Monroe, a billionaire, announced publicly that he intended to locate his 100 biological children, born from his years of sperm donations. My best friend Amber found out she was one of his children and wanted to claim her connection with him. Out of concern, I warned her that Monroe was critically ill, and the reunion might be a front for something else. She listened and didn’t pursue the reunion. But then Monroe passed away, and every recognized child inherited millions. Amber blamed me for ruining her chance at a fortune and stabbed me to death. When I opened my eyes again, it was the very day Amber had come to tell me about her father. I was jolted awake by someone shaking me. Blinking my eyes open, I saw Amber Reed leaning over my bed, face flushed with excitement. “Jess, can you believe it? I’m actually Dallas Monroe’s daughter!” I flinched, instinctively leaning back to avoid her too-close proximity. My fingers brushed my throat, and a faint memory clawed its way back—the suffocating feeling of Amber’s crazed attack when she plunged that knife into my neck. My breathing hitched. Exactly like before, Amber was gesturing wildly as she told me the story. Her dad, suffering from infertility, had turned to a donor program. She was born from a high-quality donor’s sperm. And just yesterday, Dallas Monroe had gone public with his donation history, stating he wanted to reconnect with the children who shared his genes. Every recognized child, she explained, would be entitled to inherit his estate. “My DNA matches his exactly! Jess, I’m his daughter! Do you think I should go and claim my inheritance?” Amber’s face lit up with anticipation. She’d always been more interested in wealth than reality, spending college aiming to bag a rich guy and settle into a comfortable life. But rich guys didn’t marry girls like her—they just had fun. So, in that past life, when she discovered she was Monroe’s daughter, she was dead set on pursuing her “heiress dream.” But back then, I found out that Monroe was terminally ill and that there were almost a hundred children in line. Out of concern for her, I advised her not to rush it. “I’ve heard that some wealthy people use DNA matches like these to cultivate ‘genetic donors’—you know, personal blood banks or even organ donors. It’s strange he’d be reaching out now, right when he’s this sick. You might want to hold off,” I said. Amber brushed it off, but after a few of the so-called “heirs” went mysteriously missing, she got scared and thanked me profusely for warning her. “You saved me, Jess! I could’ve been toast without you. You’re the best!” This girl, who once said I was her “best friend,” later became convinced I was the one standing in the way of her fortune. When she failed to win over Ryan Cooper, and then learned that all the recognized children got the inheritance after Monroe died, she blamed me for the life she thought she’d been cheated out of. On my birthday, she’d come at me with a knife, stabbing my throat over and over, cursing furiously: “If it weren’t for you! If you hadn’t stopped me, I would’ve been the billionaire’s heiress! Ryan wouldn’t have left me, and I wouldn’t be living this miserable life!” “Jessica Walker! This is all your fault! Die!” What she didn’t know was that, the same day she killed me, the police released a statement exposing Monroe’s scheme. The sperm donations had been real, but the reunions were fake. Every child who’d reconnected with him had been a lab rat for a new medical experiment. Yes, inheritance rights were promised, but Monroe’s “illness” and “death” were fabricated. He’d already hidden his assets and was planning his fake death and escape. The only thing left behind was millions in debt, not a single cent of inheritance. But Amber never got to hear that truth from me. She’d already killed me. Amber’s twisted, hate-filled face from that day flashed in my memory, overlapping with her current, eager expression. This time, I only smirked. “Congrats.” Some people just can’t be saved. I chose to let fate take its course.

Amber looked smug, like she’d already planned out her entire fairytale life as an heiress. “Tomorrow, I’m going to that DNA testing lab Monroe announced. When it’s confirmed that I’m his daughter, I’ll finally be moving out of this dump.” She gave our apartment a once-over, grimacing. “I’ll make Dad buy me a real house. I’m not staying cramped in this worn-out place. It’s dirty, the neighbors are trash, and it’s just gross.” I held back a laugh, thinking of how she had zero job prospects and no money when she’d practically begged me to live with her. She’d never once paid a dime in rent, and all she did was freeload. From washing dishes to taking out the trash, I’d had to nag her three times over to lift a finger. She called it “helping me out,” but she barely ever did anything. Honestly, letting her move out would be perfect. Whatever mess she got into wouldn’t be my problem. I nodded eagerly. “You’re right, this place is way below you. I doubt your billionaire dad would want you slumming it here either.” Amber looked even more pleased, grinning as though I’d just confirmed her every hope. “Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance to shine. Drive me to the testing center tomorrow,” she said, cocking an eyebrow. I raised mine right back, not missing a beat. “My car’s still in the shop. Why don’t you ask your boyfriend? Once he knows who you are, he’ll probably be thrilled to help.” That hit a nerve. Amber had recently snagged a boyfriend from a wealthy family and was constantly flaunting her designer handbags, but she knew he was just playing around. She shot me an irritated look before plastering on a self-satisfied smile. “Fine. I mean, he’s practically my match anyway. He can drive me. He should get to see the kind of place I’ll be living in soon,” she replied, sauntering off to her room. In my last life, that boyfriend dumped her after flaunting her around a bit, then married his family’s choice. When she tried to make a scene at his company, his fiancée publicly humiliated her, calling her a wannabe Cinderella. Back then, I’d actually tried to comfort her, not realizing she blamed me for talking her out of meeting Monroe. In her mind, it was my fault she’d missed out on her golden ticket. Not this time. I was keeping my hands clean. As soon as she shut her door, I sent a message to my boss, took the day off, and scheduled a moving company. By the time Amber left the next day, I had packed everything I owned. Once the lease ended, she could deal with the apartment however she wanted. Avoiding toxic people is the first rule of happiness. When you meet someone like that, don’t fight. Just walk away.

After spending the whole morning moving into my new place, my phone buzzed with Amber’s call. “Jess, they gave me this bottle of pills to take before the DNA match can be processed. Since you’re in medical school, can you check if there’s anything weird in these pills?” Amber’s bossy tone grated at me. She was always like this, expecting me to do favors for her family or friends, to cover their costs, to use my time for her benefit. I’d drop everything to help her, and she never showed the slightest gratitude. I replied, “That’s not exactly my field, Amber. Besides, since Legacy Medical produces the pills, you’d need to go through them for testing. That’d cost you thousands.” That got her attention. “Testing, really? Come on, Jess! You’re supposed to be my best friend, and you’re asking for money?” I stifled a laugh. She just wanted a scapegoat if something went wrong, someone to take the fall. And I wasn’t about to hand her that. She kept going. “You’re so heartless! Don’t you remember how I pulled you out of that fire all those years ago?” I’d had enough. “Amber, are you really the one who saved me?” Back in middle school, when a fire broke out, I’d woken up in the hospital with Amber at my side. She swore she’d saved my life, and I spent years doing everything she wanted, “repaying her” for saving me. It wasn’t until the last moments of my previous life that she admitted, “Why do you deserve a better life than me? I locked you in that classroom and watched the fire break out. Lucky you didn’t die. It was only because they put us in the same hospital room that I could make you think you owed me.” Amber went quiet on the phone. After a long pause, she stammered, “What’re you talking about, Jess? No one but me could’ve saved you. Just tell me if these pills are safe.” Her brazen denial made me laugh coldly. In my past life, she’d also snuck off to have the DNA test. When she got the meds, she’d asked me to double-check them. Back then, I’d paid out of pocket to get them analyzed by a top lab, only to discover they were unapproved for human testing. Amber and the others were basically lab rats. Legacy Medical was hyping its newest anti-aging “blood cleansing” drug, claiming it could remove toxins. Older clients would benefit from younger relatives’ blood transfusions, living longer, more vibrant lives. After hearing my warning, Amber hadn’t taken the pills and avoided the worst. But she never thanked me—instead, she thought the dead were “unfit heirs.” She was sure she’d be the one to survive and inherit. I said, “But if you test the pills, won’t Monroe know? He might revoke your inheritance.” There was a pause. “Wait… he’d do that?” I smiled, giving her one last nudge. “He’s your father, Amber. I’m sure he’d never harm you.”

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My dad wrote a will. Whichever of my brother or I has a child first will get his entire inheritance. So, I quietly poked holes in every condom. But what I didn’t expect was that my boyfriend had secretly replaced my vitamins with birth control pills. Yet I still ended up pregnant. It’s just…the baby isn’t his, and he doesn’t know. There’s no love lost between my brother and me. He’s ten years older than I am. Thanks to my dad’s affairs, my mom left right after she had me—took her payout and vanished. Dad passed me off to Mason, and Mason handed me over to the nanny. Even if I was bruised or hurt, he’d just act like he didn’t see a thing. As for Dad? He was hardly ever home. And after I was born, he got more careful about keeping things “fun with no consequences.” I found out later that my brother had once told him if he dared to bring home another child, he’d throw it into the river. And Mason kept his word. The older he got, the more intimidating he became. Even Dad was a little afraid of him sometimes. Recently, Dad found out he has kidney disease. Now, after a lifetime of living as he pleased, he suddenly wants a grandchild. So, he told Mason and me: “Whichever of you two has a child first will get my entire estate.” Mason’s thirty-four now, the city’s youngest, most successful CEO. And my dad? His wealth is worth at least ten times my brother’s. Mason isn’t married, but he has plenty of lovers. I only have one boyfriend.

Mason has the upper hand in this. While he can cast a wide net, I’ve only got one option. The only advantage I have is time. I feigned feeling unwell to drag my boyfriend, Adam, to the hospital, sneaking in a full checkup. Just as I thought, he’s very healthy—and his sperm count is high. He has an exhausting amount of energy. As for me, I’d been sedentary for too long, and my immune system was weak, so they prescribed me some vitamins. I had no plans to tell Adam about wanting a baby. He’d been meticulous about protection. When I casually asked if he was afraid of me getting pregnant, he weighed his answer carefully. “Lena, right now, my career is just getting off the ground. If you had a child now, I wouldn’t be able to take care of you properly.” Then he held me, kissed my forehead, and added, “I want us to be settled, married, and stable before we think about a baby.” Adam had a knack for making everything he said sound sincere. But that also made him inflexible. If he knew my real motive, he’d insist we get married first, which would trap me—if Adam didn’t work out, I’d have no other options. That inheritance would go straight to Mason without a fight. That wasn’t going to happen. No matter the odds, I had to try. Even if he worked his whole life, Adam would never make even half of what Dad’s worth. Our family’s business legacy, grown over generations, had expanded overseas. But Dad was selfish and never offered any help, not even to Mason. He knew my brother didn’t care for me, which made me think this inheritance race was really just a way for him to push Mason. No matter what wild things he might do, he’d better not think about dethroning Dad. “What’s got you so lost in thought?” Adam, fresh from his shower, hair damp and hanging over his forehead, was standing there in nothing but lightweight lounge pants. He laughed softly, cupped my face, and leaned his nose against mine. “Were you thinking about something?” I swallowed. I wasn’t particularly passionate about this, actually. But Adam, no matter how busy, insisted on at least four times a week. So how could I up the frequency without raising any suspicion? I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulled him down onto the bed, and kissed him with my eyes closed. But when I started tugging at his waistband, he nuzzled my neck and let out a quiet chuckle. “Why so eager tonight?” He looked at me. For some reason, there was no humor in his eyes. But before I could think too much about it, he reached into the drawer and pulled out a condom. He rolled me over, so I was facing away from him. Hearing the wrapper rustle, I exhaled in relief. Every time Adam looked at me with those eyes, I felt like my little schemes were laid bare.

The next morning at work, I ran through Mason’s schedule. When I finished, he looked at me with a wry grin. “You’re working pretty hard for that inheritance.” For some reason, Adam had decided to leave plenty of marks on my neck last night. Even with concealer, they were still faintly visible up close. “So are you, big brother,” I replied. Yesterday, he’d left work early to visit one of his “special friends.” Ours wasn’t some covert battle; it was an open war. But Mason was leagues ahead of me, running a major company, while I was just his assistant because Dad put me here. “Never thought of trying with someone else? You trust your boyfriend that much?” “He’s younger than you. Don’t overwork yourself,” I shot back. Mason just raised an eyebrow, still amused. “Good luck.” As I left his office, he tapped his desk. “Lena, pick up Bianca Ryder at five.” Bianca Ryder—a famous model, my brother’s favorite mistress with a killer body. “Will do, Mr. Tanner.” When I picked up Bianca, she hugged me enthusiastically. The first time we met, she thought I was Mason’s new fling. After sizing me up, she scoffed. “So he’s into the girl-next-door type now?” “Can you really keep him interested?” Just then, Mason walked up, wrapped an arm around her waist, and flashed his affectionate smile. “Stop talking nonsense. This is my sister.” Bianca wasn’t buying it. “Didn’t you say you were an only child?” “Half-sister. My dad brought her home from…elsewhere.” “He was going to dump her in the river, but she cried and clung to my leg, so I let her stay.” Mason wasn’t lying. The day he brought me home, he’d tried to throw me out. I cried until my nose ran, and he finally left me alone. After that, no matter what the nanny did to me, Mason never stepped in. Bianca was his longest-standing lover. He eventually found a sweet, innocent type, just like she’d predicted. They’d fought, but then his behavior got even worse—every trip meant another fling, just like Dad. They broke up, but recently her runway show caused a stir. He’d watched it repeatedly, then courted her until she came back. I figured she must really love him to forgive him for so much. But something felt different this time. On the drive back, she asked calmly, “So where’s Mason?” “He’s in a meeting and asked me to pick you up.” Mason had bought her a villa. Bianca just nodded, quiet until I pulled up. Then she looked at me, a small, steady smile on her face. “He wants a baby with me.” I blinked, gripping the steering wheel. “How do you feel about that?” She touched her stomach. “Do you think a baby would settle him down?” “Bianca, what if he’s saying the same thing to someone else?” I didn’t believe Mason would put all his hopes on just her. She unbuckled, patting my head. “Lena, I want to believe him this one last time.” “He told me this time I’d be the only one.”

I’ll admit it—Mason knows how to play his part. He had me clear out every lover besides Bianca, even sending them off with gifts, houses, and cars. When Bianca asked if Mason planned to marry her, I bit my lip and nodded. She paused, thoughtful. “Maybe he’ll propose if I get pregnant. I can feel his excitement.” I watched her smile, not having the heart to tell her otherwise. The baby part was true, but a marriage? I doubted it. Sure enough, within a week, he brought in two more. One was even younger than me, still fresh and a little innocent. He wasn’t hiding anything from me. I was the one who had to pick them up and drive them to his place. The excuse he gave Bianca was believable—work was busy, expansion projects and all. Sometimes he had me bring them to his office. Mason didn’t worry about me ratting him out. Because, after all, he held Adam over my head. If he wanted, he could destroy him with a snap of his fingers. One of the new girls was Grace Hayes. She was nothing like Bianca, with her shy demeanor and porcelain skin, but Mason was captivated. He piled my workload so high I barely had a moment’s rest, while he spent lunch breaks shut away with her. Hearing their sounds through the wall, my blood boiled. After work, I went straight to Adam’s office. He looked surprised to see me. “What are you doing here?” He’d been avoiding me lately, using work as an excuse. I wondered if I’d been too forward. Seeing Mason flaunt it all so openly just made me feel worse. Tears burned my eyes, and I couldn’t stop them from falling. He wrapped me in his arms. “What’s wrong? Did Mason give you a hard time again?” I buried my face in his chest. “Why haven’t you been home?” His voice softened. “Too busy.” “It’s my fault. I’ll be home every night from now on.” His eyes were full of concern. I kissed him, and he froze, taking my hand. “Lena, this is my office.” Ignoring him, I kissed his throat, hearing him let out a deep sigh. As my hands reached his shirt buttons, I murmured, “Adam, don’t you want me?” “Of course I do,” he whispered hoarsely. He closed his eyes, then opened them again, struggling to hold back. “There’s nothing here.” I ignored him, fumbling around. “I’m on the pill.” Adam’s breathing grew heavier, his kisses deepening. But he still didn’t give in, taking his time instead to care for me. I woke up later in the dark office, moonlight casting shadows. I walked barefoot to the door. Adam was by the window, his torso covered in scratches. A cigarette dangled from his fingers, muscles flexing as he inhaled. Just as I was about to approach, he muttered into his phone, “Hurry it up.” “And be careful. Lena’s health isn’t great. She shouldn’t be taking too many pills.” That night, I took my “vitamins” as usual. Adam watched, hesitant, until he finally spoke. “You’re taking those every day now?” I nodded. “Try spacing it out to every other day. Even vitamins can be harmful.” I shrugged. “They’re just vitamins.” He leaned down, kissing me softly. “Lena, just trust me.” He took the bottle from my hand and placed it on the shelf. Adam carried me to the bathroom, steam filling the mirror as he gently wiped away my tears. “Too much?” he murmured, his touch lightening. “Were you this bold in my office today?” I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say. Lately, I’d been nauseated more and more often. Every time, I hoped for a positive test. Still no sign of pregnancy, but I couldn’t give up. So I took the bottle to the hospital, where the doctor gave me the results: they weren’t vitamins—they were birth control pills. Adam was working for my brother all along.

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When my dad walked in on my mom cheating, he beat her so badly she was barely recognizable. I had to pull him off her to save her from worse. Later, she and her lover, Mark Ellis, poisoned my dad. Fearing the truth would come out, she locked me up, broke my limbs, and stitched my mouth shut so I couldn’t make a sound. Right before I died, I learned my brother Travis had taken out a million-dollar loan using my social security number. My family thrived off my name and money. Then, I opened my eyes—I was back on the day my mom got caught. Seeing that familiar scene, I felt my lips curl up into a smile. Go on, Dad. Hit her harder. She deserves it. “Linda Grant, have you any idea how I’ve treated you all these years? Since Diana was born, I’ve wanted you to live comfortably, so I covered all our expenses myself.” “And when Travis was born, I treated you like a queen. But look at you—you went and cheated!” “How dare you?!” With that, my dad raised the baseball bat and swung it toward my mom. Right then, I instinctively raised my arm, moved my legs, realizing that my body was whole and unharmed. I touched my lips; no cracked wounds or rows of stitches… I had been reborn. Travis’s face turned ghostly white as he grabbed my hand, voice choked with tears. “Diana, go stop Dad. If he keeps going, Mom will die!” Hearing that, my mom shot me a pleading look. Her body was bruised and bloody, her eyes were red, and blood was trickling from the corner of her mouth. “Diana, your dad listens to you. I promise I’ll never do it again!” “It’s all that bastard Mark’s fault. He lured me in, and I just lost control for a minute!” Even though I’d already died once, their pleas felt like being stabbed, each word a knife twisting in my flesh. In my last life, this had happened, too. My mom kept begging for mercy, and I softened, asking my dad again and again to give her another chance. I had no idea that, while she pretended to be the devoted wife, she was plotting with Mark to poison my dad’s food. They had him cremated while I wasn’t home. Later, she even had the audacity to marry Mark, calling herself a “single mom with two kids” who “needed a man to help around the house.” One night, I overheard them talking and finally learned the truth. My dad hadn’t died of a heart attack; they’d killed him, slowly and deliberately. I tried to pretend I didn’t know and sought a way to get revenge, but I knocked over a decoration in the process, tipping her off. Afraid I’d go to the police, my mom and Mark tied me to my bed. They broke my arms and legs so I couldn’t escape and sewed my mouth shut so I couldn’t speak. In desperation, I pinned my hopes on my brother, Travis. But what I never dreamed was that he would mockingly hold up my ID and say, “Sis, you ever heard of debt mules?” “I checked. You have a clean record and can take out over a million. Consider it your contribution to the family.” Then he lifted my chin, his smile as cold as it was cruel. “Oh, and by the way, I’m not even John Grant’s son. You’ll be joining your dead father real soon.” Remembering that brought a bead of sweat to my forehead. My open hand clenched into a fist. Last time, they killed my father and me in cold blood. This time, I’m making them pay.

“Dad, if things have come this far, you two might as well get divorced. Travis and I are already grown.” They all stared, shocked. They didn’t believe those words had just come out of my mouth. My dad’s hand froze mid-air. He took a step back and sat down hard on the couch. My mom staggered to her feet, pointing at me and screaming, “Diana, are you even human? How can you say something like that?!” “Do you know how hard it is for kids from single-parent families? Travis is a senior in high school! He’s got a crucial year ahead, and you don’t care about his future!” I let out a sarcastic chuckle and looked at her with a newfound hatred. Ever since she got pregnant with me, she’d been a stay-at-home mom. My dad worked himself to the bone to provide a good life for Travis and me, carrying the burden of supporting our family all on his own. Growing up, I’d resented him countless times. On every holiday, it seemed it was always just the three of us at home. But as I got older, I realized my dad was the one sacrificing the most. He’d keep only a couple of dollars a week for himself, sending the rest to my mom. He wore old, faded jackets while buying us sneakers that cost hundreds. He’d eat plain bread and water, giving the best to us with a smile, insisting he was full. In the end, it was because of us that he endured so much. Seeing that I wasn’t giving in, Travis shot me an angry look. “Diana, what kind of daughter tells her parents to get divorced?” My mom pulled him close, crying even louder. “Exactly! I raised you all these years, and now you’re not even on my side. But at least I have my son.” “John, for the kids’ sake, forgive me just this once. After everything we’ve been through, could you really bear to let it end?” “No matter how devoted Diana is, she’s still just a girl. We’ll need Travis to take care of us when we’re old. If we really split up… what would it do to him?” My mom knew that family was everything to my dad, and she put on a pitiful act, hoping he’d soften. Even though he was tough, he’d never thought sons were more important than daughters. Late nights while I was studying, he’d send encouraging texts, urging me on. “Girls need to explore the world, not be stuck in some small town,” he’d say. “Having you was meant to bring joy into my life, not trap you under someone else’s shadow.” I walked slowly over to him, noticing his back was now bent and weak, no longer the proud, resilient man he once was. I sat next to him, leaning against his shoulder, my voice shaking. “Dad, you’ve worked so hard all these years…” “Your daughter’s all grown up now. You don’t have to take care of me anymore.” “Please, live the life you deserve.” He lifted his head slowly, meeting my gaze. Tears glistened in his eyes. My mom threw Travis a glance, and he got the hint. He dropped to his knees, clutching my dad’s pants. “Dad, Mom knows she made a mistake…” “Dad, I don’t want you to split up.” My mom stood nearby, her tears flowing in rivers. But I knew it wasn’t my dad she couldn’t bear to lose. It was her “money machine.”

Later, my dad moved his bedding to the living room, ignoring my mom. But she and Travis dragged me into a room and started tearing into me. “Diana, you really just let him hit me, didn’t you? Enjoyed it, didn’t you?” Then she reached to grab my arm, but I dodged. “You brat, how dare you fight back? Don’t think that if we get divorced, you’ll get the house. Dream on. It all goes to your brother.” In our last life, my mom was a master at double-dealing. To the rest of the family, she acted as though she treated me and Travis equally. But behind closed doors? From the day Travis was born, he became her whole world. I was tasked with watching over him, cleaning the house, doing the cooking. The best of everything went to him, and if I so much as snuck a taste, I’d be punished, made to kneel in the kitchen all night, not allowed to sleep. By my senior year, I looked so malnourished people thought I was still in middle school. Whenever my dad came home, she’d pretend to care for me and always threatened that if I told him, she’d beat me even harder once he left. Even after I started working, she kept controlling me. Knowing Travis struggled with school, she pushed for expensive tutors and then started eyeing my paycheck. Her plan was for me to go unpaid and tutor him myself so he’d get into a good college. Remembering this, I let out a smile. It’s time they woke up from their dream. This time, Travis sneered with a twisted smile, taunting, “That’s right. Girls are money sinks, born to serve us.” “First you hand over your paychecks, then your dowry. And you’ll squeeze every penny from your in-laws to support me—that’s your destiny!” My mom, sensing I was staying silent, raised her hand to slap me, but I screamed louder than her. “Mom, I get it! I’m sorry! Please, don’t hit me again!” The two of them froze, thrown off by my reaction. Moments later, my dad stormed into the room, eyebrows knitted as he stepped between me and them. “Linda Grant, who the hell do you think you are, putting your hands on my daughter?” Travis quickly tried to cover, “Dad, don’t listen to Diana. Mom loves her! She’d never hit her.” Inside, I couldn’t help but laugh at his pathetic attempt. So, we’re playing pretend now? I raised my arm without a second thought, rolling up my sleeve to reveal the bruises. “Dad, I’m not lying. Mom hit me, just now.” “She called me a waste of space and said I was born to give up everything for Travis, so he could live a better life.” Already furious, my dad’s anger reached a boiling point. Without hesitating, he turned and slapped my mom across the face. “If I ever hear you say another word like that, pack your things and leave. Take your son with you!” I watched his retreating figure, my eyes filling with tears as a heavy fog of emotion welled up inside me. In both lives, he’d always been the one person who truly loved me. But this time, it’s my turn to protect him.

That night, I lay awake, memories of the last life replaying over and over in my mind. The torment, the betrayals—I’d make sure they paid for all of it, with interest. The next morning, while my parents took Travis to a parent-teacher meeting, I set up the camera I’d bought, aiming it directly at the guest bedroom where they often schemed. I refused to tutor Travis anymore, making an excuse about an upcoming business trip, and I checked into a cheap motel to put distance between us. Back when I’d first graduated and landed a job, my mom had taken my paycheck, saying it was for “family support.” Left with nothing, I’d worked days at my job and nights delivering takeout just to get by. Her demands had started small but grew rapidly. The more I gave, the greedier she got, wanting thousands each month for Travis’s needs. After a week, things calmed down, and my dad’s anger seemed to have subsided. I watched the footage from the camera on my phone, listening as my mom and Travis chatted in the guest bedroom. Travis was whining, clutching my mom’s arm. “Mom, all my friends have the latest iPhones. Can’t you just take some of Diana’s money and get me one?” “Look at this old phone; it’s so slow it can barely load my games!” My mom smiled tenderly, brushing his hair back—a softness I’d never seen directed toward me. “Baby, that money’s set aside for your future. Besides, that little idiot Diana’s still obedient. If she’d snitched to your dad, we’d have nothing left.” “She’s such a sucker,” Travis scoffed, lounging back as she fed him fruit. “You should just kill Dad. Then we’ll have everything to ourselves.” I felt a chill run down my spine. My mom hesitated, but he pressed on, “Remember the last time he nearly beat you to death? Showing him mercy is a danger to yourself.” “Well, he’s heading out of town tomorrow. Just get rat poison from his friend—that way, even if there’s an investigation, it won’t trace back to us.” I sat bolt upright in my bed, heart pounding as I calculated. They were planning to move soon. What I didn’t expect was for someone to make the first move before they could even begin.

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While taking my annual vacation, I lay back in the Private Spa Suite, savoring the peace. When the waiter handed me a small cake, I casually complimented him, “Great service here. Do all guests get this?” He replied, “No, only for female guests or couples.” The fork slipped from my fingers and dropped into the water. My husband, Daniel Hayes, brings me this exact triangular slice, a Rose-Petal Cake, every time he returns from a business trip. Something in my gut told me that he’d been cheating—and that his mistress must not like sweets. My name is Rachel Evans. I’m the manager of the Emerald Jewelry Sales Division, and after a few years of shrewd investments, I’ve done pretty well for myself. Daniel Hayes, my husband, was my college classmate. From freshman to junior year, he persistently chased after me until, finally, I said yes. An arts student with little in the way of prospects, he landed his sales consultant job because I pulled some strings for him. But I liked his looks and his loyal, gentle-dog qualities. Now, though, I stared at the tiny cake in my hands, silent for a long time. Daniel brings back this triangular slice of Rose-Petal Cake after every business trip, claiming it’s complimentary from his hotel. Single male guests don’t usually receive perks like this, though—so, it’s likely another woman stayed with him. Unlike Daniel, I am naturally thrifty; whenever I travel to meet clients, I’m usually back the same day, and even if I stay overnight, I settle for a basic three-star hotel. But Daniel, comfortably reimbursed by the company, has no qualms about booking luxury accommodations. When I confided my suspicions to my friend Stephanie Ward, she was shocked but quickly gave her opinion: “No way. You two were college sweethearts—you’ve been through everything together, from school uniforms to wedding rings. Get the facts straight before you decide anything.” I frowned and nodded. Honestly, I couldn’t be sure if I was overreacting or if there was really something there. Either way, I needed to test Daniel. Stephanie, who runs a nail salon and has a sharp way with words, is a little more street-smart than I am. While I’m good with the business side of things, she’s better at reading people, so I asked her to help me strategize. After thinking it over, she texted me the next day with a plan: “Doesn’t he travel a lot? His mistress might be a coworker. We can try waiting for him by the underground parking after work to see who he’s with.” It was a solid plan. Since they’d be traveling together, the mistress was likely a female colleague. So, before Daniel left work that evening, I called to let him know that I’d be out with Stephanie and wouldn’t stop by to visit him. “All right, hon. I’ll be home after work to wait for you,” he replied, his tone as warm as ever, making me doubt myself for a second. That evening, Stephanie and I sat waiting in her car at the parking garage. It didn’t take long. Daniel appeared, heading toward his parking space—and a young woman was walking beside him, clinging to his arm and leaning provocatively close. My lips pressed together, my fists clenching. Just as I thought, he was cheating with a younger female coworker. Stephanie sneered. “Unbelievable. Has he forgotten who fed him when he was jobless? You got him that job, and this is how he repays you?” Yes, Daniel came from a modest background, while my family was well-off. We were from different worlds. Naturally, my parents had strongly opposed our relationship. But I’d been defiant, swearing our love would get us through anything, like a real-life Romeo and Juliet. Now reality was making a mockery of those ideals. My hands tightened around the steering wheel, my gaze locked on the scene unfolding in front of me. Unexpectedly, just as the woman was about to get in the car, Daniel gently pushed her away. “Sorry,” he said loudly. “I’m married. Please keep things professional between us.” His voice carried clearly in the empty garage; I heard every word. The young woman stomped off, clearly frustrated, and turned away without looking back. Stephanie exhaled in relief. “See? He probably didn’t cheat. She must’ve been trying to get with him one-sidedly.” One-sided…? I wasn’t buying it. That woman was exactly Daniel’s type. When I got home, I was still uneasy. While I was changing in the entryway, Daniel—who had arrived home earlier than usual—walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around me. “Happy anniversary, babe.” He placed a diamond necklace around my neck. I was a bit taken aback, as my work in emeralds made me prefer diamonds more. I pulled away from him, unable to ignore it. “Who was that woman I saw you with, the one you nearly gave a ride?” Daniel looked mildly surprised but explained gently, “Oh, you mean Zoe. She’s just the boss’s little fling. Even if I wanted to, getting involved with her would mean career suicide.” Seeing my frown relax slightly, he leaned in and murmured, “You’re the only one in my heart, babe.” His explanation was flawless. I couldn’t argue further, but his embrace felt cold, somehow hollow. Was it possible that everything was just in my head?

My doubts stemmed from my own insecurity about marriage. Being firm on living the DINK lifestyle, I’m a career-driven woman who doesn’t want kids. This was something Daniel’s family never accepted. His mother, Linda Hayes, comes from a traditional background, where passing down the family name is everything, and Daniel is the family’s only heir. “A healthy couple with no kids? Just give me a grandchild to look after,” she once insisted. I stood my ground, even though it nearly ended our engagement. Daniel, in a surprising move, stood up to his mom and went through with a vasectomy for my sake. He really amazed and moved me. “Look, Mom,” he told her, “I can’t have kids anymore, so there’s no problem with marrying Rachel.” Linda was so furious she practically collapsed on the spot, feigning a blood pressure episode, though I knew it was all for show. We married three years ago and held to our DINK lifestyle, happily living our own lives without children. But despite my efforts to be patient and respectful, Linda never missed a chance to mock or needle me. “A useless hen that doesn’t lay eggs!” I endured it all, partly out of guilt toward Daniel, and kept showing respect to his parents. That morning, after a restless night, I looked at my sleeping husband and felt a pang of guilt. He’d been nearly perfect toward me, so what was I holding onto? When I went to work, I threw myself into my latest project. That afternoon, we split a rare emerald stone, and the first cut revealed an imperial green quality—pure and flawless. Ecstatic, I bought a bracelet for a hefty $208,000. It was a great investment, and I thought gifting it to Linda might mend things a bit. But her reaction was only a dismissive frown. “Ugh, what good is this thing? Can’t eat it or drink it. Give me a grandchild, and that’ll make me happy!” I pressed my lips together, holding back any mention of the bracelet’s cost. My gesture was lost on her, but I’d tried. To celebrate, I invited Stephanie to dinner at an exclusive members-only restaurant where the chef’s choices changed daily. Stephanie seemed out of place. When I offered her some wine, she refused, saying she was on antibiotics and would stick to juice. As we waited, well-dressed patrons filled in around us, making her even more uncomfortable. She fidgeted and finally excused herself to the restroom, returning with a touch of lipstick and a few extra pieces of jewelry. “Getting dolled up just to eat?” I teased, and as she adjusted her bracelet, my eyes caught it. An imperial green jade bracelet—the same as the one I’d given Linda. Only two of these had come from that stone, one I’d bought, and the other was sold to an executive, Mr. Chen. “Nice bracelet you have there…not bad quality.” I commented. Stephanie laughed, brushing it off. “Oh, please, I’d never afford the real thing. It was a gift—probably a fake.” But I knew this bracelet well. I’d inspected it closely enough to recognize a small cotton flaw in the design. Seeing my gaze harden, she grew visibly anxious.

Maybe it was her sudden guilt or maybe she just couldn’t face me; halfway through dinner, Stephanie got a call and quickly excused herself, claiming she had an urgent matter to attend to. “Do you need a ride?” I asked with a polite smile. She waved me off. “No, no, Rachel, someone’s picking me up.” I watched her leave from the restaurant’s floor-to-ceiling window. She didn’t wait for anyone, though—she slipped straight into a cab. Feeling a twinge of suspicion, I got into my car and followed. The taxi’s destination was, oddly enough, my own office building—the same place where Daniel works, where I’d recently bought that emerald. This was odd, since by that hour, most people had already left for the day. Stephanie seemed cautious, glancing around with her black mask covering most of her face. Once she reached the front entrance and saw no one else was around, she hurried inside. Narrowing my eyes, I parked and crept into the building, trailing her down the dim, empty hallways. Only one office still had a light on: Daniel’s. I held my breath and moved closer to the door. Through the narrow crack, I saw the scene that would forever etch itself into my memory.

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After an arranged marriage, I suddenly had a 4-and-a-half-year-old son. Before meeting him, I was dreading it. I imagined a miserable life with a husband who ignored me and a stepson who pretended I didn’t exist. But when I saw that adorable little boy shyly calling me “Mommy” while clutching my shirt, I instantly melted. I even asked my husband, “If we divorce, can I keep our son?” My husband: “???” When my family’s company ran into trouble, my father didn’t hesitate to arrange my marriage to a successful businessman who already had a son. Of course, I was thrilled about this. After all, I was a committed bachelorette. If he already had a son, I wouldn’t have to worry about having kids in the future. Plus, he was a workaholic who never had time for his son. The boy was mostly raised by nannies. I figured I could just coast through life. My husband was a big CEO, so I wouldn’t even need to take care of the kid. The wedding was a small, simple affair without many guests. I didn’t see the child there either. True to form, my workaholic husband left for the office right after the ceremony. As he was leaving, he said, “I’ll be busy at work for the next few days.” “Ethan is already at home. Get to know him when you get back.” Ethan Quinn. That was my stepson’s name. My parents were divorced and I wasn’t close to my father. I didn’t take much when I left home – just a necklace pendant. “Mrs. Quinn, young Master Ethan is waiting for you in the living room,” the housekeeper cheerfully informed me as soon as I walked in. Ugh… was he going to try to intimidate me already? Whatever, I could handle a little kid. How scary could he be? But… Who was this adorable little dumpling sitting on the sofa?! So tiny! So cute! So squishy! While I was standing there stunned, the little dumpling toddled over to me. In his sweet little voice, he said: “Miss… Wilson, this is… a gift… for you.” It was a pink teddy bear. Even though the bear was bigger than him, he was still trying his best to hold it out to me. Despite this being our first meeting, he was so friendly towards me. I was incredibly touched and quickly took the teddy bear. Then I crouched down and gently held his chubby little hands. “Wow! Thank you so much, sweetie! I love it! Your name is Ethan, right? I’m your new mommy. No need to be so formal – we’re family now. You can call me Mommy if you’d like.” Oh my gosh, he was so cute! I just wanted to hug him! That jerk of a husband of mine was truly heartless to neglect such an adorable boy. My poor son had it so rough! Yep, from now on, he was my own son! The little dumpling seemed surprised by what I said. His tiny body trembled slightly and his chubby cheeks turned bright red. He nervously gripped the hem of his shirt and shyly called out: “Mo…mmy?” After saying it, he ducked his head in embarrassment, peeking up at me now and then. Oh my goodness! Forget about the dad – this son was all mine now!! I cleared my throat and gave a solemn “Mm-hmm.” Then I turned to the housekeeper who had been standing nearby and said, “I’ll take care of the child from here. You can go about your business.” “Very well, Mrs. Quinn.” This feeling was absolutely amazing! I tried to contain my excitement and act nonchalant as I gently scooped up the little dumpling. Then, with Ethan in one arm and the teddy bear in the other, I headed upstairs. I’d been to the house a few times before the wedding, so I was familiar with the general layout. My husband really lived up to his big shot status – a six-story mansion with three elevators and two small gardens. Even the decor was grand and impressive. I brought Ethan to the room Nathan had prepared for me and placed the teddy bear next to the pillow. “Ethan, I’m sorry I didn’t have a gift prepared for you. But this necklace pendant is very important to me. Would you like to keep it safe for Mommy?” “I’ll look at it every day,” he promised solemnly. I fastened it around his neck and he looked so happy. “How about you sleep with Mommy tonight, and then tomorrow I’ll take you to preschool? Is that okay?” I asked, keeping my voice soft and gentle. If my friends could see how sweet I was being, they’d probably think I’d been possessed or something. “Okay,” came his soft reply. So adorable. I was lost in my own thoughts and didn’t notice the brief flicker of tension that crossed the little dumpling’s cherubic face. That evening… “…And so the little fox and his mommy lived happily ever after.” After finishing the story, I looked down at the sleeping Ethan and quietly set the book aside. Just then… my phone started ringing loudly. I nearly dropped it in shock and quickly hung up. Hearing Ethan’s steady, even breathing, I breathed a sigh of relief. I tiptoed out of the room and only called back once I was far enough away that he wouldn’t hear. “Amber Wilson, how dare you hang up on me!” the woman on the other end shouted indignantly. “I was putting my son to bed. And it’s my wedding night, for crying out loud. Why are you calling so late?” I said, exasperated. “Oh please, everyone knows your husband isn’t even home. He went straight to the office after the ceremony.” “Wait, what did you just say? Son? Since when do you have a son?” she exclaimed in shock. I frowned slightly. “My husband’s son. But he’s my son now too.” It made sense that she didn’t know. I only found out myself when I was told I’d be marrying Nathan. Nathan had kept the child’s existence very private. But now the news about the boy was public. “And keep your voice down, will you?” “I thought you hated kids. I know you’re all alone on your wedding night, so I called to cheer you up,” Sarah said brazenly. How was I supposed to know the little dumpling would be so adorable? I thought that to myself, but didn’t say it out loud. “What’s up?” I asked instead. “You have to come to the class reunion this Saturday. That little goody two-shoes is going to be there too. Remember – you better look smoking hot and put her in her place!” I could tell from her tone how angry Sarah was. Her expression was probably just as ugly. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on, it’s been years. I’ve forgotten all about that stuff.” She just huffed and didn’t say anything else. We chatted for a few more minutes before hanging up. I stood by the fifth floor window, staring blankly at the sky. Suddenly, I found myself thinking back to the summer after high school graduation. In high school, Sarah, Chloe and I were super close friends. At a group dinner after the SATs, the most popular guy in school suddenly confessed to me. Everyone was egging us on and making a big fuss. I was annoyed by all the commotion, so I turned him down point-blank. What I didn’t know was that Chloe had liked him for a long time and had been secretly pursuing him. Because of my rejection, the guy got upset and started dating Chloe instead out of spite. People said she only got to be with him because of me. Our relationship just kept getting worse after that. I thought once we went off to college, I’d never have to see her again. But to my surprise, even though we weren’t at the same school, she still went around spreading rumors about me and trying to make my life miserable. She and that guy didn’t last long though – he ended up cheating on her. I heard she’s going to be at the class reunion on Saturday too. “Ugh, what a pain!” I groaned, messing up my hair in frustration. But you know what? It’s been so long, maybe she’s forgotten all about it. Thinking that, I relaxed a bit. For the next few days, I just stayed home with Ethan. Other than dropping him off and picking him up from preschool each day, I worked on my fashion designs. I’m a designer for a famous brand, you know. I wasn’t about to give up my career just because I got married. That would be way too boring! Lately, Ethan has inspired so many new ideas. I’d be doing a disservice to my profession if I didn’t put them to use! On Saturday morning, I watched Ethan quietly playing with his blocks, a big smile spreading across my face. But then I thought about who I’d have to deal with that afternoon and couldn’t help but sigh. Why did I have to go to a class reunion instead of a PTA meeting? Noticing my mood, Ethan looked at me with concern. “Mommy, are you sad?” I gently pinched his chubby little cheek and said, “Mommy has to go to a party this afternoon. Can you play by yourself at home, sweetie?” After spending the past few days together, Ethan had grown much closer to me. “Can Ethan come too? Ethan will be very good,” he promised. Thinking about how she would be there, I started to refuse. His bright eyes immediately dimmed. “Okay, Ethan will wait for Mommy at home.” Oh no, the guilt was setting in. It should be fine to bring him along, right? I’d keep a close eye on him. Leaving him home alone would make me no better than his dad. “You can come, sweetie. Do you want to go with Mommy?” “Yes~” Seeing his eyes light up again, I breathed a sigh of relief. But why did I feel like I’d just been played? The reunion was being held in a private room at a restaurant. By the time we arrived, it had already started. “If it isn’t the goddess Amber! Why are you so late? We’ve been waiting for you!” someone called out as soon as we walked in. So much for quietly slipping into a corner. I smiled and waved hello, then saw Sarah frantically gesturing at me from across the room. I headed over, leading Ethan by the hand. At that point, everyone else stopped what they were doing. “Amber’s here! And who’s this little one…?” someone asked. I sat down and pulled Ethan onto my lap, frowning slightly at all the bottles of alcohol on the table. “My son,” I replied. Then I turned to a nearby waiter and asked quietly, “Do you have any drinks for children?” “Of course, of course.” After getting Ethan settled, I looked at Sarah. “Wipe that look off your face before you scare my son.” Sarah grinned mischievously. “Your son is so cute! Does he need a godmother?” She was clearly up to no good. “Get lost,” I said, giving her a disgusted look. We started eating and chatting. A little while later, I smelled an overpowering wave of perfume. The next second, Ethan sneezed. At the same time, a familiar voice rang out: “Amber, I heard you recently married a man with a child. Are you that desperate? Don’t tell me you’re…” She trailed off, but I knew what she was implying. “Chloe John, who the hell do you think you’re insulting?!” Sarah’s temper instantly flared up and she glared furiously at Chloe.

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Mom was a quick traveler, moving from world to world with a mission and a system, wining over the hearts of the “male leads” and earning rewards. Usually, after completing a mission in one world, she would head to the next. But after winning over Dad, she chose to stay here forever. Our little family of three lived happily. But then, Dad fell for his secretary. Mom told Dad, “If you go see her again, I’m leaving.” Dad replied, “Where will you go? You have no family here.” But when Mom really left, Dad went crazy. I pushed open the bedroom door. Mom was lying quietly on the bed, as if she were asleep. I walked over and called softly, “Mom.” But she didn’t open her eyes and pull me into her embrace like she usually did. I placed my hand under her nose, but there was no breath. I knew then that my mom was gone.

Mom had told me she was a mission player. Because she successfully completed her task, she chose to stay in this world forever. She said this with a smiling face. Back then, I didn’t understand what “mission” meant, so I asked, “Mom, what’s your mission?” Mom held my small hand and said, “It’s to win over your dad, make him fall in love with me, and then have you! So, Candy, you’re Mom’s greatest gift.” She kissed my cheek gently and said she never regretted it. But later, Mom never smiled like that again. Because Dad fell for his secretary. People said that Dad would soon leave Mom and me. I angrily drove them away and hugged Mom. I thought, even if Dad didn’t want Mom, it’s okay. Mom still had me. Because she was my mom, so she would always stay with me.

Usually, Mom helped me change out of my pajamas, put on my clothes, and then took me to brush my teeth. She joked that at ten years old, I still needed her help; other kids would laugh at me. I would pout and say, “They’d just be jealous my mom takes such good care of me.” But now that Mom’s gone, I had to dress myself. When I got to the dining table, our nanny, May had breakfast ready. May asked me, “Why isn’t Mrs. up yet?” I replied, “Mom’s still sleeping.” May was the nanny Mom hired for me, paying ten years’ salary in one go, to take care of me. Before, we didn’t have a nanny. Mom took care of everything at home. She was like Superwoman. After finishing chores and putting me to bed, she would study law books in the study for an hour each night to prepare for the bar exam. Dad didn’t understand and said, “Why do you tire yourself out? I support you, wouldn’t it be nice to relax?” But Mom would gently and firmly shake her head and say, “Rex, it’s my dream.” When she said that, her eyes shone brightly. I thought she looked so beautiful then, and Dad must have thought so too. He would reach out, impulsively hug her, and nuzzle into her neck like a puppy. Mom’s face would turn red and she’d push Dad away. “Candy’s right here.” I knew Dad and Mom were about to play a game they never let me join. I wanted to ask Mom to include me this time, but when Dad’s eyes landed on me, he said, “Candy, out.” I got scared and left obediently. Most times, Dad was nice to me. But I feared that look he gave me, making me agree to things without question. After that, things got better at home. Dad encouraged Mom to study for the bar and stayed up late with her. But the day before the exam, Dad took all of Mom’s documents and locked her in a room. He only let her out after the exam was over and he returned from work with me. Mom looked at Dad with fire in her eyes. “Rex, do you know I’ve prepared for a whole year for this? Do you know how important this is to me?” Ignoring her struggles, Dad held her tightly and softly said, “Evie, I’m sorry, but it’s for our family. I just want you to be home where I can hold you whenever I want. Candy feels the same way.” As he said this, he looked at me. I remembered Dad’s words from earlier that day: “If Mom becomes a lawyer, she’ll be traveling for work and forget all about you. And if she meets someone she likes, she might leave us.” Dad’s words scared me. I didn’t want Mom to leave. So, I held Mom’s hand and said, “Mom, don’t be mad at Dad. I don’t want you to leave either.” Mom looked at me, her strength fading as she slumped into Dad’s arms. After a while, her dry voice finally made its way out. “Don’t let it happen again.” Dad smiled, satisfied. Even though things turned out as I wanted, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had done something terribly wrong when I saw Mom’s now dimmer eyes.

After breakfast, I returned to my bedroom and closed the door, quietly watching my mom. At ten years old, I understood life and death. But I wasn’t scared. Mom had told me she traveled to this world at eighteen. In her original world, she lay in bed in a hospital, with tubes in her body. When she succeeded in her mission, the system gave her a choice: go back home or stay here. She wanted to go back to see her mom but couldn’t bear to leave Dad, and especially me, so she stayed. I asked her, “Mom, can you stay with me forever?” “Of course,” she said. I remembered those words for a long time. Now, I just gently touched her nose and whispered, “Mom, you liar.” Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I knew it wasn’t Dad; he hadn’t been home for a long time. Nora’s voice called out from outside, “Candy, open the door for Auntie. Auntie will take you home. I’ll be your mom.” I shouted back, “Go away! You’re not my mom, you’re a homewrecker!” After giving up on her law exam, Mom started focusing on taking care of Dad and me. We were happy. I thought we would always be happy. But then, Nora appeared. She was Dad’s newly hired secretary, always clumsy. Dad complained about her more often. I wondered why, if he found her so annoying, he didn’t just fire her. But he started coming home later and sometimes not at all. Nora even appeared in Dad’s social media posts. While shopping with Mom one day, we saw Dad with Nora. Mom dropped a vase she was holding. Dad looked over, his face instantly panicking before he pulled Nora’s wrist to chase after Mom. But Mom picked me up and ran, covering her mouth. That night, my parents fought. I hid behind the door, listening to Dad try to explain. He said he was only helping Nora because she was lonely and nothing was going on, treating her like a sister. Mom wasn’t buying it and coldly warned him, “If you see her again, I will leave.” Dad got angry, “Where would you go? You have no family here.” He knew Mom was a mission player. She gave up the chance to go back home for him and couldn’t leave this world. I remembered one time Dad made Mom mad, and she stormed out with her bag. I was frantic, begging Dad to go after her. But Dad just sat with his legs crossed, reading the paper, saying, “Where can she go?” That night, Mom came back with red eyes and bags of groceries. “Rex, I bought food for you guys.” She opened the takeout boxes—it was my favorite crab meat dumplings and Dad’s favorite chive wontons. I happily ate my dumplings while Mom quietly ate leftovers from last night. Suddenly, I lost my appetite. I thought, if Mom had a family to go back to, she would take the longest train or flight to get there. But her family was in another world; she had nowhere else to go. Dad banked on that to keep her in line.、

Outside, Nora knocked on the door for a while before falling silent. I thought she had left. But an hour later, I heard the lock being picked. The security camera showed a stranger. I got scared. Mom always said that if a stranger came when kids were home alone, they should find an adult. I couldn’t get Mom, so I ran to the kitchen to find May. “May, there’s someone outside, and I don’t know them.” May grabbed a kitchen knife, swallowing nervously. She stood by the door with me. When the lock finally clicked open, Nora stood there smiling and handed the locksmith $20. “Thank you, sir.” May said, “Miss Nora, how could you do this?” Nora replied, “Candy, your dad sent me to take you home. But you wouldn’t see me, so I had no other choice.” She reached out to grab me. I bit her hand hard and shouted, “I won’t go with you! Forget it!” Nora screamed, and I tasted blood in my mouth before I let go. She shoved me to the ground angrily and stormed out. My hand got scraped on the floor, and it started bleeding. May quickly brought the first-aid kit. As she bandaged my hand, I couldn’t help but say, “Mom, it hurts.” But my mom couldn’t hear me anymore. She used to spend time with Dad and me every day. Now she was gone, and I finally understood what missing someone felt like. I remembered when I was six, and Dad took us back to his hometown for a family gathering. The house was packed with Dad’s relatives: uncles, aunts, grandparents… so many people. But Mom and I were alone. That day, Mom cooked an entire feast by herself. Even when we sat to eat, she was still bustling in the kitchen. Uncle and Dad’s brother praised Dad, “You found an amazing and hardworking wife.” Dad smiled proudly. Mom, wiping flour off her forehead and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, smiled shyly. By the time she sat down to eat, most of the food was gone. I told her I was tired, so she quickly finished a few bites and took me upstairs. But at the staircase, she stopped and looked back. I did too, curious. Grandpa and Grandma were handing out red envelopes, uncles and Dad were talking about work, and the aunts were playing cards. They were all with family. Mom stared for a long time. I tugged at her hand and asked, “Mom, what’s wrong?” She snapped out of it and looked at me. Amidst the noise and lights, her eyes were filled with sadness. “Yaya, what do you think my mom is doing right now?” Turns out, my mom missed her mom too.

After May finished bandaging my hand, she glanced at Mom’s room and frowned. “It’s almost dark. Why isn’t Mrs. up yet?” I replied, “Mom’s really tired. Let her sleep a bit more.” May sighed, “It’s been days, and Mr. hasn’t even come to check on us.” Dad hadn’t been home in a long time. He once said he was on a business trip, but he was actually on vacation with Nora. Nora had flaunted those photos in front of Mom, telling her to divorce Dad and give up her spot. Mom’s eyes filled with tears when she saw the photos. She had wanted to visit that place for a long time and had asked Dad to take her, but he was always busy. Now he had taken Nora instead. Mom showed Dad the photos. Instantly, Dad’s face changed. He claimed they were photoshopped, saying they didn’t count. Mom’s eyes filled with sorrow. “Rex, what did you promise me when we got married? That you’d only love me and be good to me. Otherwise, why would I stay here?” Dad retorted, “Haven’t I been good to you? A million-dollar house, diamond rings, designer clothes—you asked for them, and I gave them.” Mom shook her head, whispering, “We just can’t communicate.” She threw Dad’s clothes and shoes out of the house. He, feeling humiliated, said he wouldn’t come back. And from that day, he really didn’t. Soon, Nora’s house caught fire, so she moved in with Dad. Mom didn’t cry when she heard. She just hugged me gently. “Now I understand that people’s hearts and love can change, and promises only matter when they are made,” Mom said softly. “But it’s too late to regret now.” 8 That night, I brushed my teeth by myself and used a towel to clean my small body. Then, I climbed into bed and hugged Mom. Even though her body was stiff and cold, as long as she lay there, I felt happy. I once asked, “Mom, what kind of person is your mom?” Mom never talked about her dad, and her mom was her only relative. “Mom was strict. She would hit and scold me when I didn’t do my homework,” she said. I frowned, not understanding why she would miss someone like that. Sometimes Mom had nightmares and called out for “Mom,” not Dad. Mom’s voice changed as she continued, “But when I was diagnosed with leukemia at sixteen, Mom never got angry again. She quit her job, sold the house, and took care of me every day.” “My mom loved me a lot,” she said with a mix of pride and sadness. I realized Mom never forgot her mother. When she traveled to this world at eighteen, she was still just a girl. One day, I found Mom crying secretly by the window after learning Dad was on vacation with Nora. She said she shouldn’t have let love cloud her judgment, giving up everything, including her mom, whom she could never see again. 9 Mom had asked Dad for a divorce. A month after he moved out, she invited him back home. Dad showed up in a black suit with his hair slicked back, looking more handsome than ever. That day, Mom cooked a big meal. Dad smugly said, “Changed your mind?” I sat at the table, excited, hoping they would reconcile. But Mom put down her chopsticks and said, “Rex, let’s get a divorce.” I knew what divorce meant—Dad and Mom would be separated forever, and we’d rarely be together. Dad’s expression changed instantly. “Evie, you’re making a big deal out of nothing! I won’t do anything with Nora. I still love you. Why can’t you be more understanding?” Mom said, “To me, this isn’t a small issue. You broke your promise and betrayed our love. How can I be understanding?” Dad, looking worried, angrily said, “If we divorce, where will you go? Who do you know here besides Candy and me?” Mom, choking up, replied, “If I don’t know anyone, I’ll meet new people. If I run out of money, I’ll wash dishes and mop floors. I can take care of Candy by myself.” Dad sneered, “Go ahead and try.” He turned and left in a hurry. In the following days, Mom sent out many job applications, but they were all rejected. She kept applying, hundreds, thousands of times. Until a kind person told her: “Miss Bailey, Mr. Rex has made it known that no one should hire you.” Soon, a lawyer came with documents for Mom. “What’s this?” Mom asked. “It’s a comparison of you and Mr. Rex’s assets,” the lawyer explained. “If you go to court for custody, unfortunately, you won’t have much chance.” Mom turned pale. I clung to her shirt, petrified. Shortly afterward, Dad’s relatives showed up, surrounding Mom with interrogation-like questions. “With Rex’s great conditions, you still want to divorce? You won’t get a better chance.” “Ungrateful. What does Rex even see in her?” Mom, coldly, said, “Stop trying to convince me. I’m divorcing him.” One softened their tone, “Evie, think about the child. How upset she’d be if she knew her parents were divorcing.” Mom looked momentarily moved. The group quickly said: “Yes, the child needs a healthy childhood.” “Everything for the kid. What’s so hard to bear?” Someone pushed me towards Mom, smiling, “Candy, do you want your parents to divorce? If they do, you’ll be without a mom.” Tears welled in my eyes. I hugged Mom tightly, scared, “Mom, please don’t leave Dad. Candy can’t bear losing you.” Mom, eyes filled with unshed tears, said softly, “Alright.” Her voice was like a sigh. Mom gave up. I thought this meant she’d stay forever. But little did I know some birds can’t be caged—their very feathers shine with freedom.

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